A Hand in The Night
by Angel St. Mathew
Summary: From the memory banks of a little girl with a wild and unappreciated imagination. These stories go out to anyone who ever had an imaginary friend. More details inside
1. A Hand in the Night

A/N: I once submitted this long, long ago. Since that time I have revised it slightly and have, upon popular demand, recorded a few more of these. I hope to eventually move these from real memories to a fictional story I've been developing for some time now, but I'm not sure when I'll be able to get that one finished and posted as the plot and details have yet to be fully laid out. However, I'll try and let you guys know when this storyline switches over from fact to fiction. As for now, I'll be posting these in chronological order (as well as I can recall, anyway – it _was_ more than a decade ago…wow, that makes me feel old…) up until the _big_ one, which will most likely be posted as a separate story on Until then, enjoy!

A Hand in The Night

By Angela St. Mathew

The green house by the lake was silent, a single perpetual light glowing in the downstairs kitchen. On the second floor, a blooming family slept peacefully through the quiet of the night.

All but one.

A small brunette girl lay in her little bed, the bottom of a bunk bed she shared with her older sister. Her eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness, but she kept her blankets over her head nonetheless. She knew it was very late at night, and that meant the house would be _different_. Not the safe, happy place she knew during the daytime. At night, things came alive.

Much to her dismay, the child had woken from a bad dream, the result being a very deep longing for a glass of water. The bathroom was right beside her room, but she was too afraid of the dark to cross the distance. She snuggled a little deeper into the blankets, thinking about what she should do. She didn't think she'd ever get back to sleep without a drink of water. Maybe if she quietly sneaked to the bathroom as quickly as she could, she could turn the lights on before the monsters heard her, and then she could get a drink.

That sounded like a good plan.

"One...two...three!" She counted quietly in her head before climbing out of bed and tiptoeing rapidly out into the hall and around the corner, into the bathroom. She reached up over the counter toward the light, but she couldn't reach it. Being only 4 and a half, she was too short to reach the switch. How had she not remembered this fact? Time was running out, and she couldn't go back into the hall - the monsters could be out there. Complete terror began to settle in on her and she started crying, not knowing what she could possibly do.

A hand suddenly came down, softly, upon her shoulder. She gasped and whirled around.

"Sshhhh..." He whispered.

She clung to him. "Bonkers, I'm scared!"

"It's alright, you don't have to be scared. Can't you reach the light?" He asked gently.

She shook her head and, somehow through the darkness, he saw the motion clearly.

"Well then, hop onto my shoulders and I'll lift you up onto the counter, then you can reach the switch, ok?" He said.

"Ok." Thankfully, his presence seemed to keep the monsters at bay. He bent down onto the floor, and she climbed onto his shoulders.

"Ooof! What did you eat for dinner, a horse?" He joked.

She giggled as he lifted her up to the counter, and she was able to turn the light on. They both squinted in the bright light as she scooted over to the sink and filled the cup with water.

"You want some?" She asked, handing the cup to him. He took it and drank a little, then he handed it back to her and she drank the rest.

After she turned out the light, he helped her down from the counter and, together, they walked back to her room. She climbed into her bed and he climbed in on the other side and lay next to her on top of the sheets, stroking her hair.

"Bonkers, you're my best friend..." She said, drifting off the sleep.

Bonkers only smiled.

End.

More to come soon!


	2. Of Bologna and Fish

A/N: Here be the second installation to this story. Just for the record, since it seems there is a little confusion, the stories that I post here are _actual memories_ from my childhood, unless otherwise specified. I will tell you that these first couple are direct memories, and later on they will become a mixture of fantasy with reality (that will make more sense when you actually read them). Don't please don't be confused, I will make give a stressed notice when these start deviating from fact to fiction.****

**Of Bologna and Fish**

The green plastic blade sliced through the round pseudo-meat with the expert precision of a six-year-old. Angie diced the single piece of bologna into tiny squares, which were then gathered into a small pile in the center of the little plastic plate.

"Are you sure they like bologna?" Asked the orange bobcat that sat near her on the wooden planks of the pier that overlooked the lake.

"Sure I'm sure," replied the little girl who'd been working so diligently, "fish will eat almost anything!"

She lifted a piece of bologna between two small fingers and dropped it into the gently lapping water below. A moment later, a couple silky Blue Gills appeared and one lucky soul managed to snatch the treat before the others had a chance. Bonkers joined Angie in feeding the locals, both friends laughing and lending imaginary voices to the fish as they ate, or hesitated, or fought over the food.

In the midst of their fun, Angie gasped suddenly and lurched foreword with one arm stretched out toward the water. In an instantaneous blur, Bonkers grabbed her around the waist and pulled her safely away from the edge.

"My bracelet!" She whimpered, watching as the colorful trinket disappeared beneath the lake's glassy surface.

Two seconds later there was a great splash as the orange bobcat dove into the lake after the bracelet.

"Angie, what are you doing?"

The call came from a distance from the lake, up by the house – from the living room window, Angie knew, because it was through that window that her mother always looked to check on her. It wasn't as if she needed to be checked on, though. Angie had Bonkers, after all. But it was her mother who called to her now.

Angie didn't turn when she responded automatically, her mind was too focused on the thought of her best friend swimming in the deep, dark water down there.

"Feeding the fish." She called back.

"Alright, just be careful you don't fall in."

Angie hardly heard her, not only because she was too preoccupied, but because her mother said this so often that she usually tuned it out. Despite what Bonkers might have thought, Angie hadn't intended on falling in – she didn't like swimming in the 'deep end' of the water, so why would she go and let herself fall in? The deep end was on the side of the pier that was further from the shore, where all the fish were. Angie like the fish, she just didn't like swimming anywhere near them. Regardless of all this, even if she _had_ fallen in, she was a good swimmer.

Angie gripped the edge of the pier and stared into the water anxiously. Seconds seemed to pass by like minutes as she waited.

Finally, an orange shadow faded into view beneath the foggy green of the lake, and Bonkers emerged, waving the bracelet triumphantly over his head.

"You got it, you got it!" Angie cried happily as she helped him back up into the pier.

"Oh, Angie, you should'a seen it! There I was, combin' the bottom of the lake, when a great _monster_ of a fish swam out of the shadows! It had the bracelet clutched in it's _slimy_ jaw! He came at me, I pounced-"

"Bonkers." Angie said with a look that said _knock that off_ as she slipped the bracelet into her pocket. She didn't want to wear it while it was all wet.

"What? It's true!" Bonkers insisted.

"There are no fish that big in this lake." Angie reasoned.

"But look at how _big_ the lake is!" Bonkers spread his arm in a wide arch to indicate the rather average-size lake. "Why wouldn't there be a big fish out there?"

"Maybe out _there_," the little girl said, pointing toward the center of the lake, "but not _here_."

"Awh, come on, you think I'm makin' it up?"

Angie looked at him thoughtfully, and he cast her that pitiful _don't you trust me_ look.

"No, I guess not." She said, as though giving in.

"That's my girl! Anyway, like I was sayin'…" and he continued with his story while Angie listened intently. She still wasn't sure that she believed her friend or not. But then, his story was way better than any truth may have been. Funny, how it usually worked that way.

A/N: Yeah, I know it was short and a little pointless. But this is something I remember, and since I have few coherent memories, I'm trying to record anything I have in detail. Hope you liked it anyway!


	3. She Just Doesn't Understand

She Just Doesn't Understand

By Angela St. Mathew

"Come on, sing it one more time,_ please_?" Bonkers pleaded. He was perched between the handlebars of her bicycle, holding on tight as Angie pedaled along.

This had become one of their favorite pastimes as of late – just riding around the neighborhood together. At seven years old, it was good to get out of the house once in a while, away from her family. Specifically, away from her older sister.

Since the incident with her mother, Angie had been less and less inclined to spend time with any of them while Bonkers was around.

She wasn't thinking about any of that at the moment, however. Bonkers was looking straight at her with those big, pleading puppy-dog eyes of his. She knew that any minute now his lip would start to tremble in mock-sadness.

"Alright, alright." She said, grinning, and promptly began singing a hip-hop style song she'd memorized from a commercial about his TV show – which she watched every afternoon religiously on Disney Afternoon, channel 46.

Bonkers moved about to the beat, but only slightly. He didn't want to throw her off balance. She'd only learned to ride this bike a couple weeks ago, and they'd already taken a couple dives into the widow next door's piney shrubs.

Angie was about mid-way through the song when they rode past her house. A sort of shadow descended upon the two friends, and the song came to an abrupt halt just seconds before they cleared the trees and were in plain view. It was as though the world became quiet, and Bonkers made a quick, vanishing exit from sight. Only Angie knew that he was still there, even though she couldn't see him.

But neither could Kathy.

A year and a half her senior, Angie's sister was perched rather piously on the porch steps, daintily licking a blue freezy pop and eying her sister with a strange, accusatory glance. Normally, the sight of Kathy with any manner of treat would have sent Angie flying into the house and asking if she could have one as well. Not this time.

Angie forced her gaze foreword. The two girls had already made brief eye contact, so she couldn't pretend she hadn't seen Kathy there. But she refused to let her sister think she cared about her opinion.

Or, at the very least, _how much_ she cared.

Angie glided past the front lawn of their green lake house without pedaling, making it appear that she had not a care in the world. Once she passed the widows shrubs and was blocked from her sisters line of sight, Angie released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. In that same instant, Bonkers reappeared before her.

"Want to keep singing?" He asked, not so much to satisfy his own pleasure, but rather to let her know that it was ok to back out.

Angie shook her head, a sad little frown finding its way to her flawless seven-year-old features. As always, Bonkers made it his priority to cheer her up.

"Ah, don't pay any attention to Miss Prissy Pants back there. She's just _jealous_, that's all."

He smiled widely at her, but the smile she returned was faint, and for his benefit alone.

"I don't think so." Angie said quietly as they moved further down the road, away from her house and her sister's criticizing eyes.

Like many times before, Bonkers was glad Angie couldn't read his thoughts – glad that she was not yet aware of all the reasons why he'd come to be with her so many years ago. Unfortunately, she was getting older and beginning to see things a little more clearly. During the first years, Angie hadn't spoken about Bonkers to anybody. The thought simply hadn't occurred to her. Lately though, as she began to make it known that she had an imaginary friend, whom she spent most of her time with, Angie was starting to see a strange and different side of her family.

It began with _that_ evening a couple weeks ago. Bonkers shuddered to recall it, since he'd had no control over what had happened. Thankfully, Angie was oblivious to his involuntary role in the situation.

Angie had come down to the kitchen, and he'd followed her, of course. But when she climbed up onto the barstool of the island counter where her mother was, her words caused Bonkers heart to stop momentarily, and he vanished in a blind panic.

"Mom, can me and Bonkers have a snack?"

Standing outside the doorway of the kitchen with head in hands, Bonkers listened to the exchange between Angie and her mother. At first, Angie's mom surprised Bonkers by complying with her daughters request. She played along with her daughter in a way that he knew was making Angie immensely happy. It made him immensely happy as well. Not many parents would endulge their children's fantasies so.

It was after about 20 minutes that the game began to turn sour, and Bonkers' stomach began to feel heavy, as though a large rock was settling there.

Angie's mom was trying to convince her daughter that it was time for 'Bonkers' to go home and make more TV shows, or something to that effect. It was not said in an unkind way, but it was clear that Angie's mother was tiring of the game. Unfortunately, Angie still believed that at this moment, like most other moments, Bonkers was still with her even though she couldn't see him. So, naturally, she argued quite pointedly that Bonkers had already made all the episodes of his show, and they were showing reruns on TV, so he had no other pressing business other than spending time with her.

"Angie, it's time to stop now, ok? That's enough."

It was not said meanly, or with any manner of irritation. It was actually said rather affectionately. This almost worried Bonkers more than if she'd snapped, for now he had no way of knowing what Angie's reaction would be. It would forever be etched in his mind as the first time Angie realized that no one really believed in him except her.

He waited. There was silence between Angie and her mother for a moment. In the dining room, Kathy and the two girls' older brother Danny were sitting at the table playing a game. That was the only thing Bonkers could hear for the span of about two minutes before he heard the scraping of barstool legs across a wood floor and the light thump of a little girl jumping down, followed by long-striding footsteps. Angie walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room. The orange bobcat hastened after her, making sure to wait until they were safe in her room before reappearing to her normal vision.

He watched silently as the little girl moved about her room methodically - removing her shoes and socks, picking out a pair of pajamas, changing into them, moving things about on her dresser and nightstand. She did all this without looking at him.

"I'm sorry, kid."

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong." Angie said matter-of-factly as she took the ragged baby doll off her bed and tossed it rather carelessly into the toy crib.

"Yeah, but I'm still sorry." He said again. He watched her carefully, trying not to let his uneasiness show. Angie was usually very open about her feelings. This was the first time he'd seen her so closed off – that, or none of this had bothered her as much as he thought it would.

He was betting on the former analysis.

She paused and looked at him, smiling just a little. "It's ok, Bonkers."

That's when he saw it: the faintest trace of mist in her reddening eyes. It was the most fleeting of reassuring glances, but it was enough for him to see right through her. It rendered the bobcat somewhat speechless how strong she was being.

Angie quickly turned her eyes away as she climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over her head as she always did, leaving just enough space for her little face to peek out. She lay facing the window, which was on the opposite side of the room from the doorway.

Bonkers moved to the door and flipped off the lights, noting briefly that it was still early and her mother hadn't actually told her to go to bed. He padded across the carpeted floor in the darkness and climbed up to sit beside her on the bed. He didn't have to look at her face now to know that she was crying, and he felt his own stomach growing hollow inside.

It was part of the process, he knew, for children like Angie to eventually face situations like this. It had all been explained to him in the beginning, and he'd convinced himself he'd be ready to face it with her. The first bite of reality was always the bloodiest, especially for those children born with something different inside them. Something special, even wonderful – an imagination too wild for the average mind to contemplate, or tame.

Angie was one of those children, and her gift was exceptional.

Regardless of the tears forming in his own eyes, Bonkers' normally jovial features turned downward into a somewhat angry scowl. It just wasn't fair. He knew this would not be the last incident where people didn't believe or understand her. Somehow he knew there would be many, many more. He also knew that, eventually, the pressure of the reality outside her mind would either _make_ her…or brake her.

He prayed fervently for the former as he placed a hand gently on her arm and moved it back and forth over the sheet. He felt her shudder slightly in a silent sob, and a tear fell from his eyes and landed in his lap.

"She just doesn't understand." Angie was saying as the two friends continued gliding down the neighborhood streets on the bicycle. Bonkers smiled a little, trying to cast his thoughts aside for now.

"Nope. Her loss!" He said cheerfully. He was rarely as crazy around Angie as he was on his TV show.

The little brunette girl smiled. "Yeah."


	4. The Climbing Tree

Two small hands stretched out and braced themselves against the smooth bark of the tree to soften the impending impact. Angie just barely managed to stop herself from crashing into the tree in her haste to reach it. Tears burned her soft brown eyes and she willed them to stay unshed until she'd reached her destination. She deftly leapt up and gripped the nearest branch of the tree, swinging her legs up and following the all-too-familiar route to her favorite sitting spot mid-way up the tree's height.

Once there, she glanced down to see if, just maybe, her older brother had followed her. It wasn't possible that he'd missed her anguish over his cruelty, and she knew that he wasn't that heartless.

But he hadn't followed her. There was no sign of him in the yard, which meant that he'd gone back into their grandparent's house.

Though the knowledge that he hadn't reacted to her outburst didn't surprise the little girl, it did cause her tears to finally fall. She crossed her arms over her chest and sobbed quietly.

"Angie?"

Angie didn't have to look up to know who it was. Bonkers D. Bobcat climbed up through the branches, occasionally using his claws for support, and came to sit on a branch near her.

"Why won't he play with me? He never wants to play anything _I_ want to play, why! It's just not fair…" The little girl vented to her friend without hesitation.

"I don't know, honey…I wish I did."

"All they do is make fun of me…" Angie muttered through her sobs. Now she was talking about both of her older siblings, Bonkers knew. And he also knew what she was talking about – it was the first time she'd outwardly reacted to their teasing.

Unfortunately, he was about to find out just how much she'd been holding back from him and the rest of the world.

In an instant, her anguish hardened into an intense anger, and the seven-year-old clenched her fists when she shot the bobcat a very dark look.

"It's _all your fault_, Bonkers!"

Bonkers had to grip the tree to keep from falling backwards in shock at her outburst. He fought to control his features, but they betrayed his hurt instantly. She didn't seem to notice, or if she did, it only encouraged her.

"_You're_ the reason they make fun of me all the time, _you're_ the reason they won't play with me! _You're_ the reason Lindsay treats me like I'm a baby!" Now she referred to her only friend who, truth be told, acted like she was better than Angie.

"It's _all you're fault_!" And with that, Angie climbed unsteadily out of the tree as fast as she could and darted into the house, leaving Bonkers alone.

Late that night, Angie laid in the big bed in one of her grandparents spare bedrooms. The sheets were stiff and crisp from being recently cleaned, and she felt very small in the very large bed, all by herself in the very large room which they called the Blue Room. It was named such because of it's blue walls, carpet, and bedding. Though these were the only things that were altogether blue, it seemed to Angie that everything in the room was tinted blue, and this was quite unappealing at night. Her hair was damp from taking a bath earlier, and the chilling effect made her whole body shiver.

That, and the memory of what she'd done earlier.

When she'd come rushing into the house after yelling at Bonkers, her attempt to make it to the upstairs bathroom undetected failed when her mother caught up with her, all anxiety and concern, demanding to know what had happened.

Unwilling to damage her relationship with her siblings further by blaming her plight on them, Angie lied. However, her older brother Danny was there almost instantly, explaining what had happened and apologizing to his sister. He seemed a bit incredulous of the fact that Angie had been carrying on about it so, but he was sorry for his part in it nonetheless. Angie accepted this, as did her mother, and the two children spent the remainder of the evening playing with the toys in their grandparents basement.

Now Angie lay in the big, quiet room, curled beneath the blankets. Her eyes were becoming droopy and she was almost asleep when she finally felt it. She could always sense his presence like the warm water of a bath washing over her.

"Bonkers?" She whispered hopefully.

She knew he'd been invisible a moment ago, but it seemed as though he'd stepped around the corner of the bed so that now he was in her line of vision.

"Hey, kiddo." He said quietly, almost nervously.

She smiled, but it was instantly replaced with a look of remorse.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Ssshhh," He said with a little smile, "it's alright."

"But I shouldn't have said that, it wasn't right. If it weren't for you, I'd…I'd _always_ be lonely."

Bonkers climbed up onto the bed to lay beside her. "Don't mind any of them. You're folks love ya, even if they don't believe everything you say. That's all that matters right now. You're just too starry-eyed for those other dope's to handle."

"Starry-eyed?" Angie questioned.

"Sure. You're brighter than those dimwits. They're just jealous."

Angie could tell that he wasn't being completely serious. He would never insult someone so openly, even if they were mean to her. He never truly had anything bad to say about anyone.

"I'm glad I have you, Bonkers. They make me so lonely sometimes."

Bonkers stroked her hair as her eyes drifted closed.

"Someday you won't be lonely anymore, kiddo. I promise."


	5. Don't Touch the Pieces

A/N: This is probably the last piece as far as memories go. This is where I start writing ficticiously. This is a real instance in my life, but my imaginary friend had long since left me. The idea that Bonkers was secretly visiting me then is a nice one, but untrue. I just knew it fit well because this story depicts the kind of thing he used to do and probably would have done for me in my time of need. **  
**

**Don't Touch the Pieces**

The orange bobcat knew that it was not by some random stroke of chance that he had managed to visit her tonight of all nights. In actuality, _visiting_ only meant that he remained invisible the entire time and she was never aware of his presence as he watched from the sidelines. He had only come three other times since he left her for good all those years ago. He wasn't supposed to visit her at all, which was why he kept these ventures entirely secret.

Regardless of his obvious conviction for the upholding of the law, Bonkers had successfully made off with a key that allowed him to travel back and visit Angie. He had turned his own key in after leaving Angie, and his career as an official imaginary friend, for the last time – he simply didn't want to do this kind of thing anymore. However, the pull to visit her and make sure she was doing ok was far too great for him to simply ignore. So he had broken more laws than one and obtained a key, changed the sequence, and came back. Among the thousands of recycled keys kept in storage at headquarters, this one had gone entirely un-missed.

Presently, and though quite invisible, Bonkers was hiding around the corner of the kitchen area of Angie's families house. Though he was sorry to see it happen, he was glad that Angie had lost her ability to _sense_ his presence – for both their sakes.

He listened, shocked and heartsick, to what would be the final blow of a very long, hard situation in the girl's life. The bobcat wished he knew more about the situation, mentally kicking himself for his prior caution and not visiting more often in order to keep up to date on things. Apparently, this had been the latest in a series of painful incidents involving a close friend of Angie's; a boy. It had something to do with Angie's mom and some other girl having endured some offensive blows dealt by him.

Bonkers knew who he was. He'd found out all about Angie's 'very best friend' when he had dropped in the last time, about three two years ago. Now he knew he'd waited too long before coming back. But, of course, he knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent this from happening even if he had visited more often.

Angie had apparently just gotten off the phone with this boy, confronting him on his actions. It hadn't ended well.

At first, Angie was practically fuming as she none-too-quietly described the conversation to her parents. Her mom was saying something about how she knew calling him had been somewhat pointless, and that she wasn't surprised by anything that he had done. Angie's dad was, for the most part, silent. Bonkers knew Angie's parents well; knew that her mom spoke her emotions, her father spoke his heart.

When Angie's little sister beckoned her mother from another room, the older woman complied, though not very willingly. Though her words were a bit harsh, Bonkers knew that the older woman's heart broke for her daughter.

Angie was still talking to her dad, but now her voice was altering from that of anger to one of complete dejection.

"I hate him, dad," she said, her voice breaking with her anguish, "I hate him so much…"

It wasn't the first time this boy had hurt her, Bonkers knew that from the bits and pieces of what she'd been saying a moment ago. It was also made clear by her mother that she'd been warned about this boy's potential for turning on her. Bonkers himself could hardly believe it. He had seen how wonderful that boy used to be to Angie, how he'd brought her to life when her other friends didn't seem to notice her. He'd been her angel then. What had gone wrong?

Bonkers wanted to hear Angie's father say something – he knew her parents rarely molly-coddled their children, especially in very serious situations. The bobcat dared to peek around the corner and saw that Angie, at eighteen years of age and on the eve of her high school graduation, had crumbled into her father's arms, sobbing. And, to the toon's near shock, the middle-aged man was apologizing to her, or perhaps _for_ her, with tears in his own eyes.

Bonkers had never seen the broad-shouldered man shed a tear before. He felt his heart shatter in his chest as he listened to Angie cry, over and over, how she hated that boy. And her father comforted her like never before.

Deep into that same night, Bonkers crouched at the foot of the large bed in Angie's bedroom, listening as his former charge cried herself to sleep. He could hear her talking, though he wasn't sure to whom, nor could he understand what she was saying.

So many times he considered leaving. He simply couldn't bear to listen to her unjust heartache. But he didn't move. She didn't know he was there, didn't sense him at all, but still he could not leave her.

After what seemed like countless hours, Angie's breathing slowed considerably, with an occasional hiccup, and Bonkers knew that she was finally asleep. He rose cautiously and stood beside the bed, gazing at her. She was curled up in a fetal position, clasping fistfuls of her bed sheets in both hands. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her face and pillow were stained all over with tears.

Carefully, ever so carefully, Bonkers crept up onto the bed and sat down beside her. He was taking a huge risk, he knew, but it hardly mattered to him at that moment. Her sleep was a deep one borne of total exhaustion, so he knew the chances of her sensing him and waking were slim. He reached over and began to ease the tangles from the tips of her hair with gently fingers. He'd done this many times for her as a child. But then he'd been allowed to interfere and help her. Back then, he could reach out and touch the pieces of her shattered heart.

By the time he'd finished the task and was running his fingers across the great length of her soft hair, Angie's hiccups had ceased and she slept quite peacefully. Bonkers hopes she would remain that way until morning.

He stayed by her side until just before dawn, and then quietly slipped from the bed. He wouldn't be much use to Miranda today, he realized, but he didn't really care. He looked back over his shoulder at his sleeping friend sadly.

Then, without a word, he slipped through the window and disappeared.

A moment after he'd gone, Angie stirred. Her eyes drifted half-way open and she gazed about her dark room through a haze. There as a strange, yet pleasant tingling feeling all over her body, but centrally located in the region of her head and shoulders. A familiar and altogether indefinable feeling came over her and she rolled over to inspect the other side of her bed.

Nothing.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected to find there.

Angie rolled back onto her other side and drifted back to sleep. The painful happenings of the previous evening would not catch up to her until she woke with full consciousness later in the morning.

A/N : For those of you who don't know, Bonkers is a police officer in Hollywood, and Miranda is his working partner. I don't know when I'll be able to get the full fiction story up and running. Right now I am currently working on a full play that will hopefully be put on here at school, so that will be taking a great deal of my time. However, I will try to work on my story about Angie ending up in the other world where Bonkers is because I have the outline written out and a third of the actual story already done. We'll just have to see. Please stay tuned if you're interrested, I'm really excited to see how it goes.


	6. Apology

**Apology**

I want to issue an official apology to everyone waiting on the continuation of this story. It has been a painfully long time since I've had a decent opportunity to work on it, as I am currently working three different jobs and taking a summer class (Shakespeare...oy). However, the story is about half done, so rest assured that I have no intention of leaving this as it is. IT WILL BE FINISHED! When, I can't say. To those of you who decide to wait for it, I appreciate your faith in me. Alot.

Sincerely,

Angela St. Mathew


End file.
